Me and My PlusOne at the Afterlife
by Anachronistic Dime
Summary: When writers die, they go to Hell and become editors. When boys like Peter Pevensie die, they go to Narnia and get to do unspeakable things to a certain Telmarine... Now complete. To the smut-hunters out there: five and six are what you're looking for.
1. Chapter 1: The Fall

When writers die, they go to Hell and become editors

**Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife**

_Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly. Title from "Thriller" by Fall Out Boy (and I feel so dirty for admitting that I still listen to them…)_

_Rating: M (for later chapters and my filthy mouth)_

**When writers die, they go to Hell and become editors.**

**When boys like Peter Pevensie die, they go to Narnia and get to do unspeakable things to a certain Telmarine.**

He woke up falling. The last thing Peter remembered was the edge of the bridge, the way the water looked. He remembered thinking, _If this is it, then I don't see what the big deal is…it's only about three stories, and even then, six feet's not so far down, either…_

He wasn't going to go through with it, you know. He thought of Lucy, and Ed and Susan, and how devastated they'd be…they'd get over it. What he couldn't get over was how, for the last few weeks since they'd gotten back from Narnia, he'd wake up sweating and shaking every night, feeling the ghost of slender fingers against his skin and full lips on his face.

Peter let himself fall. The last thing he _heard_ was a woman's terrified shriek, followed by the muffled sounds of police sirens after he'd hit the water. Then he heard nothing at all.

The funny thing was…he didn't stay that way for long. When he woke up, he was lying flat on his back in the middle of a forest nursing what felt like the hangover from Hell, clothes and hair curiously dry.

The air was crisp and cool; when he opened his mouth, it tasted of autumn, with the faintest hint of dirt. Shaking his head, he spat once, twice; having cleared his mouth to what he considered a satisfactory degree, he stood, bracing himself against a tree.

The tree moved.

Peter blinked, swaying drunkenly just in time to notice an arrow penetrate said tree directly where his left eye had been moments before. Wide-eyed, he reached out to touch it when he heard a familiar voice cry out, its rich timbre resonating in the woods, sending shivers down his spine.

As he drew his hand back, he noticed a slim, dark figure loping gracefully toward him. Suddenly, Peter found his voice and spoke first.

"C-Caspian?" God, he hated himself in that moment. He sounded like a blushing schoolgirl; to make matters worse, his legs were shaking slightly. He hoped it wasn't noticeable, watching the young Telmarine eye him up cautiously.

"Peter? What are you doing here? I thought you were never to return again." Something in Caspian's eyes made Peter's breath hitch, and he stepped toward the other man.

"Er, well, you see…that's the thing. I'm not really a part of that world anymore, I guess you could say…" Best to break it to him quickly, like a Band-aid… "Caspian, I'm dead. Or, I suppose I'm supposed to be, but I ended up here. Funny, isn't it?" Peter laughed self-consciously, though his awkward smile faded as soon as his eyes met the ground.

How the fuck was he supposed to explain that he, Caspian, was the reason he'd chosen to off himself? He couldn't just come out and say, "Oh, Caspian, I've always had a secret man-crush on you, and when we got back to England, it was just too much to bear"…could he?

Before he had a chance to collect his thoughts, Caspian stepped closer, narrowing the gap between them to rest his hand gently on Peter's shoulder. "Come on…it is so nice to see an old friend. We must get you to the castle and freshen you up…you look exhausted, King Peter."

"Er…right. Thanks. Um…what's with the bow?" Peter gestured, flushing slightly again and hating himself for it.

Caspian laughed softly, linking his arm through Peter's as they walked. Peter gulped, averting his eyes from the full lips of the darker male.

"Well, I was thinking that perhaps a King ought to be proficient with many types of weapons, so…I've been practicing. Also, it reminds me of…"

Susan. Right. As if anything could erase the painful memory of that kiss from Peter's mind. He looked up, down, anywhere but at his companion's face, hoping that his emotions weren't showing. He always was rather dreadful at concealing such things…

A broad smile lit up the new King's handsome face as he gazed fondly at Peter. "Perhaps such things are better left in the past, yes?"

"Right. Yes." Peter nodded curtly, forcing a pained smile on his face. _Weapons proficiency_…obviously, the naïve Telmarine hadn't meant for his words to carry such a strong innuendo, but Peter…he flushed just thinking about what exactly that might entail.

It was going to be a _long_ afterlife, that much was for sure.

**A/N: Yeah, so I'm definitely an insomniac, and felt like writing something in a different style than my usual; let me know what you think! This will definitely be a long fic, so any and all comments would be greatly appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2: iArréglase, pronto!

Title: Me and my Plus-One at the Afterlife (2/

**Title: Me and my Plus-One at the Afterlife (2/?)**  
**Rating: M (for later chapters and my FILTHY mouth)**  
**Pairing: Peter x Caspian (I ship them so goddamn hard it's a crime)**

**Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife**

_Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly. Title from "Thriller" by Fall Out Boy (and I feel so dirty for admitting that I still listen to them…)_

_Rating: M (for later chapters and my filthy mouth)_

**When writers die, they go to Hell and become editors.**

**When boys like Peter Pevensie die, they go to Narnia and get to do unspeakable things to a certain Telmarine.**

When they arrived at the castle, Peter was feeling less than comfortable with his proximity to Caspian. The urge to pounce on the boy and do incredibly wicked, naughty things to him was becoming overwhelming, and the worst of it was that Caspian seemed completely oblivious to his (rather obvious) attraction. Deciding that keeping his mouth shut was, perhaps, the best course of action, Peter followed the other boy mutely as he was led to a spare chamber.

His stomach nearly expelled its non-existent contents when the new King turned and gave him a warm smile, brushing past him as he strode to the wardrobe, fetching fresh clothing for Peter. The brush of Caspian's arm against his and the gentle rush of air that followed made Peter squirm, and he promptly began twisting himself into an awkward position on the edge of the bed to hide his body's reaction to his host (1).

As he pulled a tunic and other assorted garments from the shelf, Caspian turned to Peter and attempted to make casual conversation, asking him mainly about his siblings and their life back in England ("Een-gah-lund" was his adorably Mediterranean pronunciation of the word). The warm voice and its familiar accent should have comforted Peter, especially given the fact that, back in "his world," he was now rather _dead_, only made the situation more awkward as he struggled to control his blush and come up with answers consisting of more than one syllable.

Just as he thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, Caspian handed Peter his clothes, gesturing for him to get dressed. Ordinarily, this would not have been such a bad thing, except for the fact that it seemed that Caspian intended to _watch_. Peter choked, making a strangled little sound rather like a cat that has just been dropped from a ninth-storey window (2).

Trying his best to remain dignified, Peter slowly stripped off his shirt, wincing as the bruised muscles in his shoulders promptly began to bitch at him. He hoped that Caspian wouldn't notice certain _things_ as he continued to disrobe; fortunately, the young King kept prattling on about Narnia this, Telmarine that, and although his eyes remained locked on Peter, he seemed rather immune to Peter's manly charms (3).

In fact, since this approach seemed to be working so well, Peter decided it was safe to go full-frontal when donning his new trousers, assuming that Caspian would not take notice of anything below the waist, either.

Imagine the boy's surprise when, as Caspian finally finished up his monologue and moved to leave the room, Peter felt a sharp pinch on his ass, followed by a rather saucy wink from the Telmarine.

Yes, things were definitely looking up for Peter (no pun intended).

**Author's Notes: **

**1**Jesus Christ, that made Peter and/or his body sound like some sort of parasite. Hee hee.

**2 **I'm a fan of weird analogies, particularly ones such as "Macbride fell twelve stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup," compliments of one of my college homies (whom I miss intensely right now).

**3 **You have no idea how fucking hard I laughed after typing that. Cheers!

Remember, reviews make the happy little bunnies inside my head work faster! CRACK THAT WHIP, readers! D


	3. Chapter 3: Things Get Heated

Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife (3/

**Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife (3/?)**

**Rating:** M, for innuendo and my ability to curse like a sailor.

**Pairing:** Caspian x Peter

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine.

**When writers die, they go to Hell and become editors.**

**When boys like Peter Pevensie die, they go to Narnia and get to do unspeakable things to a certain Telmarine.**

Peter was, quite understandably, shocked. When that hand had come out of nowhere and fastened itself firmly onto his right buttock, he thought he'd died and gone to Heaven…that is, until he realised that he was already dead. Thankfully, although he felt quite giddy, Peter resisted the rather un-Kingly urge to dance around shouting, "He touched my ass! He touched my ass!"

Still, he couldn't help the foolish grin that had made its way onto his face. He flopped lengthwise across the bed, attempting to sleep, but all he could think about was long hair, dark eyes, and that _smile_. How the hell did he do it? Peter giggled, feeling once again like an overgrown (and gender-confused) schoolgirl.

After about a quarter of an hour and many, many thoughts about what he'd like to do to Caspian on his bed, Peter sighed, raked a hand through his hair, and sat up. He moved to the mirror, attempting to pretty himself up a bit and wondering where Caspian would be right about now. He didn't have to ponder long, however; a soft rap came upon the door, jarring him from his thoughts.

"Come in! I wasn't expecting you, Cas--"

The young chambermaid blushed prettily. "No, sire, I'm sorry, sire…but the King has requested your presence at dinner, sire."

Peter looked away for a moment and rolled his eyes so hard that it actually _hurt_. Sire, sire, sire…it was almost like she was asking him to fuck her or something. He shuddered at the thought of another mini-Peter nancing about through the castle, causing the girl to look at him in concern. Remembering his manners, Peter turned to her and forced a smile.

"Er, right…I'll be right there. Let him know, will you? Thanks."

The girl meeped, nodding and quickly darting out of the room. Peter massaged his temples.

Brushing some nonexistent lint off his clothes, he walked slowly to the door and down the corridor, fighting the impulse to skip merrily along. He looked around, carefully observing the stained-glass windows and how they bathed everything in a soft, opalescent light. Upon arriving at the main hall, he looked around, searching for Caspian; he spied him at the head table and began to walk over, surreptitiously scanning the area for an empty seat near Caspian (read: practically on top of the boy). To his profound joy, he saw that Caspian had saved him a seat directly to his left—and the chairs were _very_ close together.

Peter sat down, taking a moment to inhale deeply and compose himself. It wouldn't do to have Caspian suspect that he wanted to get into his (fabulously tight) trousers, would it?

To Peter's dismay, Caspian barely said five words to him throughout the entire evening. Instead of looking at Peter and commenting on something he'd said, he merely stared straight ahead and gave a tiny smile, stoic as ever. Peter gazed down at his plate, attempting to hide the pain in his eyes caused by the other boy's apparent rejection.

When another noble addressed Peter to ask about his past (for it seemed that since the last time he was in Narnia, the Telmarines had gained quite an interest in the Kings and Queens of Old), he forced a smile and began to answer the question, speaking in a low, calm voice. Unfortunately, his composure faltered and his voice cracked when he felt a hand creep into his lap, stroking at his inner thigh.

Noting the concern on the noble's face, Peter forced another smile and gulped, continuing to speak. He twitched in his seat, hands fluttering nervously above the table line as the hand crept inward, now toying with the button-fly of Peter's pants. He gave a soft, self-conscious laugh, smile still plastered to his face, and nearly gasped in relief when the topic of conversation shifted away from him.

Stealing a glance at Caspian from the corner of his eye, Peter channeled his best "What in the flying fuck are you _doing?!"_ look at the King. Caspian caught his eye for a moment, just long enough to give him a faint smirk before deftly popping open the buttons and slipping a slender hand inside.

Peter _did_ gasp this time, causing several of the others to look at him. An elegant-looking woman raised a brow, looking somewhat worried.

"Your Majesty, are you quite all right?"

Peter shifted awkwardly in his seat, attempting to get the hand to move into less dangerous waters, which only succeeded in allowing Caspian to slide his hand even further in. Flushing faintly, he replied in a strained voice, "Yes, I'm fine, thank you…"

As Caspian's delicate yet callused fingertips began to circle the head of his cock, Peter bit his lip roughly, gripping the edge of the table with one hand. His eyelids fluttered slightly, not sure how to get out of the situation as he struggled to control his breathing. He thought he was doing a damn good job of it, too…at least, until Caspian's fingers wrapped around him and gave a firm tug.

Peter jerked slightly at the new sensation, knee banging the underside of the table painfully and causing the dishes to rattle. Sensing his distress, Caspian quickly removed his hand, re-fastening Peter's fly for him before setting his napkin on the table. When he spoke, his voice was as smooth and crisp as always, expression neutral.

"It seems that King Peter is feeling rather ill…I shall escort him back to his quarters to make sure that he does not require any medicines or further…assistance."

Extending a hand to Peter, Caspian helped him up, being sure not to expose anything below the waistline above the table until Peter had adjusted his tunic appropriately. He followed on weak, shaking legs as Caspian led him gently out of the room, allowing the other King to guide him down the hallway to his chamber.

Once there, Caspian led him inside, smiling softly as he closed—and locked—the door. He began to slowly advance toward Peter, catlike, hips swaying slightly, until the backs of Peter's knees had collided with the edge of the mattress. As he leaned forward, lips perilously close to Peter's, he smirked once more.

"Let's finish what we've started, my King…"

**A/N: Ooh, I'm fuckin' evil, leaving it off like that…I'll probably write more in a bit, soon as my sleep-hangover's gone away.**

Again, no pun intended…Christ, Lewis, why couldn't you come up with a different name?!


	4. Chapter 4: Nunca Te Salgo

Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife (4/

**Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife (4/?)**

**Rating:** M, for man-sex and my ability to curse like a sailor.

**Pairing:** Caspian x Peter

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING. ("Nothing is real…") Brownie point for anyone who can tell me where that quote came from!

**When writers die, they go to Hell and become editors.**

**When boys like Peter Pevensie die, they go to Narnia and get to do unspeakable things to a certain Telmarine.**

Peter's mouth went dry the second Caspian stepped toward him; it seemed that he'd blacked out for a few seconds, because the next thing he knew, he was flat on his back with the other boy on top of him. Caspian, his former composure now all but forgotten, settled his knees to either side of Peter's hips, arching his back slightly to lean down and press a light kiss against his lips. The soft exhalation of the High King shattered whatever was left of Caspian's control, and he slid his hands up Peter's arms, pinning his wrists to the bed.

Peter stared up at Caspian, wide-eyed and breathless, watching the dark eyes above him glitter in the moment before soft lips crashed against his, hard enough that Peter could feel his own teeth against his lips. The older (1) boy flicked his tongue gently against the other's lips, and Peter obligingly parted them. The kiss was slow, Caspian's tongue gliding in with the same sort of raw passion and untamed grace that made its way into his everyday actions. As he slowly worked his lips against Peter's, he loosened his firm, almost bruising grip, allowing Peter to raise a hand and cup it to the back of his neck and pull him closer.

For a moment, it became a battle of another sort—mouths and smooth skin pressed together, blunt fingernails clawing at one another as they attempted to undress each other at the same time. Finally, Caspian pulled back, laughing softly, and Peter was damned if it wasn't the sexiest thing he'd ever heard. His already dark eyes had gone black with lust, and for the first time, Peter noticed the slightly bruised look beneath them, as if he hadn't slept since their separation.

It was all terribly endearing, and Peter offered the boy above him a shy smile, eyes softening as he reached up, tracing the strong, angular line of Caspian's jaw with a fingertip. Caspian's eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment he appeared to almost nuzzle into Peter's hand. Turning his head, he placed a delicate kiss on Peter's palm, eyelashes tickling the sensitive skin as he blinked innocently at his friend-turned-lover.

All Peter could think about was one of the rows they'd had before Caspian had officially been crowned King; his own words came back to haunt him, and for a moment, it was almost as if he could see the flashback in Caspian's eyes.

"Hey!_ I am _not_ the one who abandoned Narnia…" The Castilian accent had thickened slightly in his anger; the mere fact that he'd recognised such a subtle change in tone and knew what it meant did nothing to soothe Peter's already rattled nerves and hot temper._

"_No. You just invaded it."_

"…Peter?" Caspian's voice was painfully innocent now, eyes huge and drowning deep, filled with concern. He reached down and gently wiped the few tears that had fallen from Peter's shell-shocked eyes away, rolling off of the boy and cradling him to his chest. Peter kept his face buried against Caspian's shoulder, staining the boy's expensive shirt with tears that fell freely now. Caspian just nodded, nuzzling his hair gently, patting his back and whispering soothing things in his ear.

"C-Cas…I'm sorry, you know. I didn't mean it…" Peter's voice was thick with tears; when he looked up, his nose was slightly red, eyes too glittery, too bright.

"Shh…I know. I know, _mi amor_. _Te amaró para siempre, no te preocupes, cariño. Ya lo entiendo que sus palabras estuvieron de enojo, del dolor...nunca es fácil ver tantas vidas terminan..._Shh." (2)

Peter nodded slightly, curling closer to Caspian, fingers knotted tightly in the fabric of his clothing as if he'd lose him again if he let go. As he drifted off into a bland, dreamless sleep, his fingers loosened; Caspian held him more tightly in response, as if he were afraid to let go, too.

**1 I'm making Caspian older than Peter 'cos it just seems like it should be that way…plus, time passes in Narnia more quickly than in England, so yeah. **

**2 Yeah, I decided I liked Bilingual!Caspian better than WeirdPseudoAccent!Caspian, so there you have it. I took four years in HS and one in college, then dropped it 'cos it was a total waste of my time…if I fucked something up, **_**lo siento, no lo he usado en algunos meses.**_** (Sorry, haven't used it in a few months). **

**BTW, the shit Caspian's saying translates roughly to "I know, my love. I will love you forever; don't worry, darling. I understand that your words were (spoken) out of anger and pain…it is never easy to see so many lives end." **

**A/N: Sorry for killing the mood, too… It just kinda happened. They will get the bow-chicka-wow-wow on in the next chapter or so, though. **_**Les prometo.**_


	5. Chapter 5: But God, It Feels So Good

Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife (5/

**Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife (5/?)**

**Rating:** M, for man-sex and my ability to curse like a sailor.

**Pairing:** Caspian x Peter

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Period.

**When writers die, they go to Hell and become editors.**

**When boys like Peter Pevensie die, they go to Narnia and get to do unspeakable things to a certain Telmarine.**

Caspian lay there in the growing darkness for a long, lonely stretch of time after Peter's breathing had finally evened out, his tense muscles going lax as he slumped into the mattress. Sighing, he rolled over, one arm behind his head, the other supporting Peter's sleeping form. He stared moodily up at the ceiling, dark brows furrowing as he tried to understand all that had happened.

Perhaps if he had not toyed with Peter's emotions in such a way earlier, everything would be all right…_actually_, thought Caspian, a dark, somber smile sliding across his lips, _if I had not toyed with Peter _in general_, if I had left well enough alone, perhaps he would not have killed himself. Ah, Mami…not only am I lying with another man, I am lying with what is technically a _dead_ man…_

Caspian tried to think of just how high up that particular offence was on the list of sins…if he hadn't given Peter those longing, sideways glances while they discussed tactics or "accidentally" brushed against him all those times, the boy would not have become enamoured of him; he would still be alive and well in his own world, possibly with a wife and children by now. He would have forgotten all about Caspian; selfishly, curling his arm and bringing Peter's sleeping form closer, Caspian was secretly glad that he was back with him, no matter what the cost.

Of course, Peter had not come right out and told Caspian that he had committed suicide; no, it was something that Caspian himself had intuited while gazing into the other boy's sensitive, light-coloured eyes earlier. It was the reason that he had not protested and attempted to continue when Peter became upset; there was a time and place for those things, and this was not one of them. Still, it didn't exactly solve his "problem"…

Slowly, gently so as not to wake the boy next to him, Caspian edged his left arm (1) from under Peter's back, wincing as the muscles stretched out and his elbow popped. He raised his arm, flexed his fingers a bit…rolling onto his back, he let out a shaky breath before slowly reaching down, letting his fingertips graze over the smooth, flat planes of his lower abdomen. He caressed the jutting hipbones for a moment, closing his eyes as his hand traveled lower. If only it were Peter doing this…then again, his arm was so numb that it didn't exactly seem like he was doing it to himself, either.

Caspian felt his cheeks flush lightly, running his the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip. As his fingers trailed across the finely muscled area just above the spot he wanted so desperately for Peter to touch, he couldn't help but moan, trying to stifle it as much as possible. His back arched slightly, and upon shifting his weight on the bed, he thought he heard Peter mumble something under his breath. Caspian's heart stopped dead for a moment; oh God, what if he'd seen or heard something? What if he knew what he was up to? It was all quite impossible, really, seeing as Peter was lying with his back to him at present; still, he'd have to take pains to be more careful.

Fingers still trembling, Caspian slowly lowered himself back onto the bed, flattening out the arch in his lower back. He gave Peter's back one last, nervous glance before smoothing his palm softly across the growing bulge in his trousers, nearly gasping again at the intense friction that simple motion provided. Biting his lip, he quickly loosened his pants, slipping his hand in. His jaw clenched as he closed his fingers around himself, slowly beginning to stroke. He definitely did not want Peter to wake up; the mortification would be beyond belief. At the same time, judging from his struggles remaining quiet just doing this, he knew that if he and Peter ever went further, he would definitely be the vocal one in bed…

Despite his valiant efforts to control his breathing, his lips parted slightly as he began to move his hand faster, tightening his grip. He kept thinking about Peter, lying prone beneath him much like he had earlier, eyes filled with lust as Caspian grasped his hips and began to thrust his now achingly-hard cock into him…he wasn't sure if Peter had done that sort of thing with anyone before, male or female, but Caspian knew that he had not. He wondered what it would feel like to sink into Peter, almost unbearably hot and tight and moaning wantonly as he was mercilessly fucked by the darker boy… He could see him now, braced against the bedpost, back arched into a slightly unnatural curve, looking over at his shoulder and nodding to Caspian, moaning his name and pushing back against him with every thrust… And God, to feel those plump, rosy lips around him, watching Peter eagerly take him into his mouth…

Caspian tilted his head back, little breathy moans escaping from his now swollen lips as his pleasure began to peak. Stroking his thumb over the head of his cock, now incredibly sensitive and slick with pre-come, he moaned Peter's name once, under his breath, before he completely came apart, shuddering with the intense rush of pleasure coursing through his body.

Caspian went limp against the pillows, panting lightly. He hastily wiped his left hand clean and re-buttoned his trousers, using his other to push some of his hair back from his face. He blushed deeply in the dark, still embarrassed by what he'd done. Gradually, his heart rate slowed as he began to drift off to sleep.

At his side, Peter opened his eyes, shifting awkwardly in an attempt to relieve the throbbing between his own legs. He'd managed to sneak a glance at Caspian just in time to watch him reach his orgasm, long legs tensed, lush lips parted in an almost silent moan. _Beautiful…oh, the things I'd do to him…_ Peter rolled over onto his side, placing a trail of firm kisses on the other boy, beginning at the full lips and traveling down his neck, before nuzzling into the crook between Caspian's neck and shoulder and slipping into unconsciousness once again.

1 I'm making him a lefty 'cos in pretty much any pic/interview/what have you I've seen of Ben Barnes, he's got his watch on the right wrist…usually, you wear that on the left, yeah? Hmm. goes to investigate


	6. Chapter 6: El Camisado¿de la Mañana?

Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife (6/

**Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife (6/?)**

**Rating:** M, for teh pr0nz and my vile, vulgar language.

**Pairing:** Caspian x Peter

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Period.

**When writers die, they go to Hell and become editors.**

**When boys like Peter Pevensie die, they go to Narnia and get to do unspeakable things to a certain Telmarine.**

When Caspian woke the next morning, he noticed a strange emptiness on Peter's side of the bed. Stretching sleepily, he padded over to the door with the intention of looking for the missing boy. He opened the door cautiously, taking a moment to pause and ensure that his clothing and hair were not askew and that nothing about his appearance betrayed the…festivities of the night before. He made it roughly one sixteenth of the way down the castle's long corridor before a hand shot out from an alcove Caspian had entirely forgotten about, grabbing the back of his shirt and dragging him in. He yelped, completely confused as to what was happening.

He gave a faint, awkward squeak as strong hands pulled him close, and then his back was against the rough stone wall, a thin layer of flesh stripping away at the sudden friction. He hissed, but the sound was quickly silenced as a pair of full lips covered his in a dominating kiss, the foreign tongue demanding entry into his mouth. Wide-eyed and somewhat scared, Caspian stood still and silent as a corpse as the stranger twined their tongue around his. Despite the strangeness of the situation, he couldn't help but give a soft, disappointed whine as the stranger's mouth suddenly left his. He was not disappointed for long, however; the lips made their way to his ear, biting and sucking gently on the sensitive lobe. Meanwhile, a strong, undeniably masculine hand toyed with the fly of his trousers.

The lips parted as the stranger blew lightly into Caspian's ear, drawing a low, involuntary moan from him. The voice that followed shocked Caspian to no end:

"So…you think I didn't notice what you were doing last night, do you? Well, I want you to know that I--" A kiss. "Saw…" A rough nip to the sensitive skin just behind Caspian's ear caused him to shudder. "Everything." The stranger's hand slid down, teasing his already stiffening cock.

"P-Peter?" Caspian gasped, reaching up to grasp the other boy's shoulders, arching into the touch. He felt the lips twist into a seductive smile against his neck, and then he was turned abruptly around, chest pressing rather uncomfortably into the wall. He felt Peter's arms encircle his waist as his own erection pressed into the small of Caspian's back. There was something sharp in his hand; Caspian couldn't tell what it was, but before he knew it, his shirt was hanging from his torso in shreds, Peter's nimble fingers playing roughly with his nipples.

"You know, Caspian…I saw you come last night." Peter's voice was incredibly sexy as it fell upon the perplexed King's ears, lower than he'd ever heard it and full of lust. "And I knew then that I wanted to take you, just like this…" He punctuated his words with a rather rough twist of his fingers, causing Caspian to cringe slightly, though he did not flinch away. Then Peter's mouth was on the sensitive flesh of his shoulder, biting roughly into the muscle before laving the soon-to-be-bruised area with his tongue.

Peter's arms left him for a moment, and he heard a soft sound rather like a jar being twisted open; he fought the urge to moan again as he heard the distinct sound of something slick and wet sliding across hard flesh, and before he knew it, a slender digit was teasing his entrance, barely touching yet just enough to entice the former Prince. Caspian's eyes widened as he was gently stretched open, then closed them against the sharp, sudden pain. It was sheer torture for a few long, agonizing moments until Peter found that _spot_; Caspian could have sworn he felt his eyes roll back, and found himself barely hanging onto whatever restraint he had left. Of course, it would've been much easier for the young Telmarine if Peter had just shut that plump, pouty little mouth of his instead of continuing to speak in that same low, dark voice directly into Caspian's ear.

"I watched you…woke up just in time to see you holding that cock of yours…" He slid his free hand around to Caspian's front again, firmly grasping said appendage close enough to the base that he would be quite unable to release until Peter wanted to. "You must've come so hard…I heard you. I heard you moan…my name, and I didn't sleep at all after that…" Peter moaned shamelessly into Caspian's ear before flicking his tongue across the outer rim, tugging at the flesh lightly with his teeth.

Before Caspian could fully comprehend exactly what was happening, there was something large and hard pressing into him from behind; he tried to relax, but was far too nervous. He heard a muffled curse come from the other boy as he awkwardly repositioned himself, finally succeeding in filling Caspian completely. This time, it was Caspian who moaned, loud enough for it to echo obscenely in the vacant corridor. Surprisingly, Peter made no attempt to silence him; instead, he gripped the other boy's slender hips and began to move, softly at first before picking up his pace and thrusting roughly, almost savagely, into Caspian's tight, prone body. Peter leaned forward until his chest was pressing into his lover's back, resting his chin on his shoulder before moaning once more, a sound that once again sent chills down Caspian's spine. His surprisingly talented hands began to move as well, toying with rough, hard nipples before sliding them both further south, using both to stroke Caspian's painfully hard cock.

Caspian's breath caught in his throat as Peter continued to fuck him, pain giving way to a physical pleasure far, far better than that of the night before. The sound of flesh against flesh was growing louder with each passing second, assaulting Caspian's ears and pushing him over the edge. With a soft, strangled moan, he came hard into Peter's waiting hands, hips bucking wildly several times. He felt Peter twitch, then release within him a few thrusts later, silent but shuddering against his back.

Peter took care not to pull out too quickly; it was the first time for both of them, obviously, and he hoped he hadn't caused Caspian too much discomfort. When Caspian moved into the thin beam of light illuminating the alcove, the complex look in his eyes made Peter shudder again and breathe his name softly, and he knew that he had nothing to worry about. Caspian's eyes flashed as the light caught them, and he grinned mischievously at Peter before pulling up his trousers with a slight wince and limping off, pausing a few paces later and waiting for Peter to follow.

Amused at his awkward gait, Peter bent slightly at the knees and scooped Caspian up, ignoring the boy's loud cries of protest as he carried him unceremoniously down the hall back to their room. Caspian felt himself being set gently upon the bed before a warm weight joined him, and the two nuzzled together in the pale, early morning sun, long dark hair tangling with sun-kissed blonde. Sharing an intimate smile, they drifted off into the deep, sated sleep of the well-fucked, not waking again until very late that afternoon.

**A/N: Another smutling for you all! Couldn't help it; my muse was demanding that I write it. R&R, por favor! Or not...either way, I hope you all enjoyed it!**


	7. Chapter 7: Puerile

Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife (7/

**Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife (7/?) **

**Rating:** M, because I'm just that goddamn cool. No smut in this one, sorry…two in a row's enough, yeah? At least, for now…

**Pairing:** Caspian x Peter

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them. Period.

**When writers die, they go to Hell and become editors.**

**When boys like Peter Pevensie die, they go to Narnia and get to do unspeakable things to a certain Telmarine.**

The boys awakened some time later to a harsh rap on the door. Without any further warning, the laundress ducked in, immediately blushing and averting her eyes when she spotted Peter and Caspian entwined together on the bed. Peter yawned sleepily, cocking a brow. _What's the big deal? We're clothed…_ He realised that Caspian was still firmly snuggled against him, clutching him as if he were a teddy bear. Meanwhile, the woman pretended not to have noticed anything out of the ordinary, busying herself with gathering some used clothing and bed linens much more quickly than usual before darting out of the room.

Peter sighed happily, stroking Caspian's hair and noting with delight the way the other boy lifted his head into the touch slightly. Unfortunately, the sun was quickly sinking into the horizon, washing the room in its rosy tones.

"Cas…wake up. It's almost nighttime, and we've not appeared all day…surely they'll be wondering about us soon?" His only response was a sleepy groan from Caspian as he rolled over, flapping his hand at Peter in an annoyed fashion that clearly meant, "Let me sleep, or I'll be even more bow-legged tomorrow."

Exasperated, Peter sat up and walked to the wardrobe, flinging it open and throwing fresh clothing at Caspian. "Get up, get up, get up…" Peter muttered under his breath, tone slightly sing-song but rather pissy at the same time. After he'd dressed himself, he turned to see if Caspian had, indeed, roused himself from his near zombie-like state. To his amusement, Caspian lifted his head and gazed at Peter with dark, wondering eyes, obviously bewildered at the other boy's smirk; after a moment, he realised that he had, somewhere in the span of the last several minutes, become a walking pile of clothes. He shook his head at Peter but smiled, shaking himself off and getting dressed.

Peter waited patiently, licking his lips with a sly smile of his own as he eyed up his lover's body, then grabbed Caspian's hand and all but sprinted down the hall. Caspian, slightly bewildered by Peter's rapidly changing moods, trotted along obediently. "Where are you taking us, Peter?" The blonde did not dignify the question with a response, so Caspian merely shrugged it off. It was endearing, in a way, to see his exalted High King acting like a young boy.

A short time later, Peter had them sprinting through the maze of shrubbery in the garden, seemingly oblivious to poor Caspian's gasps for air. When they had reached a small, secluded area somewhere near the middle of the maze, Peter stopped, leaning back against the fountain and bracing his hands on the edge. He looked at Caspian with a small smile, then motioned for him to join. Caspian, amused by the sudden appearance of Peter's seemingly inexhaustible energy, walked toward him, only to receive a rather large splash of water to the face as he approached.

"Hey!" Caspian pouted, then reached into the fountain and flicked some back at Peter, who laughed and grabbed Caspian about the waist, pulling him in closer. When he had the dark King suitably nestled between his thighs, ensuring that he would _not_ be going anywhere any time soon, he reached up and tenderly brushed a lock of wet hair away from Caspian's face. Caspian leaned forward into the gentle brush of skin against skin, delicate as the beating of a moth's wings against a windowpane.

Peter gazed into his eyes with an intensity that was almost unnerving, then leaned forward to seal the gap between them. He pressed his lips to Caspian's temple, softly kissing away the beads of water as he worked his way down to his jaw. Caspian tilted his head obligingly, allowing his eyes to slip shut for a moment. Peter studied the graceful angles and curves of the other boy's face, radiant in the moonlight; he found himself perfectly content in his current position, despite the two of them being rather damp and vulnerable to the chill of the night air.

A twig snapped somewhere behind the pair, destroying the tranquil atmosphere; Caspian jolted out of his trance and whipped around just in time to see a tall figure clothed in Telmarine armor dashing away. He swore loudly, and Peter could see the muscles in his jaw working as he paced about the small enclosure, shoes clicking on the stones. "Shit, shit…they were not supposed to see that…what will they think? Peter, this is not good…" He turned and looked beseechingly at the younger boy, as though by sheer willpower, they could erase the memory from the mind of the wandering guard.

Something in the young Telmarine's desperate gaze caused a twinge of displeasure to blossom up within Peter, rapidly growing into full-blown anger. The rational part of him understood Caspian's reasons for wanting to keep their trysts private; unfortunately, the emotional side gained control, and he strode to the brunette, catching him by the shoulders and shoving him angrily. Caspian turned his glare on Peter, handsome brow furrowing slightly as Peter opened his mouth and proceeded to start in on him.

"What the fuck's your problem? I know that outing ourselves like this probably wasn't the best way to do it, but it's like…it's…are you _ashamed_ of me? Of us?" Peter's voice caught in his throat, angry tears gathering in his eyes and threatening to spill down his cheeks.

"Peter, you know that is not the reason; I am not ashamed, but what if my subjects found out that I was lying with another man?" His accent thickened, and Peter could tell that he was starting to get pissed.

Peter stepped back, hoping that the distance would hurt him further. His lip curled disdainfully and he clenched his hands into tight fists, trying to control the volume of his voice so they would not be overheard. "If you're so bloody worried about everyone finding out that you like it up the ass, why did you pinch mine? Why did you touch me like that under the table, in front of _everyone_, knowing full well that you were likely to get caught? What do you think they all thought when they saw us leave together, Caspian? _Answer me!_" Peter's voice dropped to a low, menacing hiss as he stared the other boy down, watching with a sort of twisted pleasure as Caspian's features twisted into an expression of pure and utter loathing.

"Why did you have to grab me like that this morning, Peter? Why could you not leave well enough alone?"

"Why did you have to jerk yourself off in bed with me last night?" Peter scowled, leaning his upper body forward slightly.

"Why can't you understand the position I am in?" A dark look from the dark King.

"Why do you have to be such a _bitch?!_"

"¿Porque no comprendes el más sencillo de ideas, _pendejo_?(1) If word gets out, it could spell ruin for me, for you, for the entire damned kingdom! Or are you so selfish that you care only for your own emotions and desires?" And then, two words that Peter never expected to hear from Caspian: "Fuck you."

Peter watched as he turned on his heel and stalked away, chin lifted defiantly. Unable to control his wrath and no longer caring how ridiculous he sounded, he shouted at Caspian's retreating back.

"You're just jealous that I got there _first!"_

**1 "Why can't you understand even the simplest of ideas/concepts, asshole/wanker/shithead/etc.?"**

**A/N: Yeah, bitter. Sorry if it's lacking in the usual style/quality; rough night. **_**Very**_** rough…ended a relationship of two years. Not pleasant. Anyway, I wanted to update and thought the idea of a lover's quarrel of sorts could prove to be very interesting…**


	8. Chapter 8: Sonrisa

Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife (8/

**Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife (8/?) **

**Rating:** M, because I'm just that goddamn cool.

**Pairing:** Caspian x Peter

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them. Period.

**When writers die, they go to Hell and become editors.**

**When boys like Peter Pevensie die, they go to Narnia and get to do unspeakable things to a certain Telmarine.**

**A/N: Special thank you goes out to all my reviewers, particularly habsrock08 and ****Adelheid for the lovely compliments and support…you guys are awesome. **

**This'll probably end up getting wrapped up within the next couple of chapters; I've written a few actor-based one-shots for this fandom over at ****community./narniaslash/****, but there are, like, millions of really awesome, slashy fics that you should definitely check out. **

Caspian broke out into a dead run once he was out of Peter's line of sight; it wouldn't do to have him see how upset and hurt he was. He was just trying to look out for his throne and his people…why couldn't Peter see that? After all, he was the one who had taught him practically everything he knew about how to rule a country…

It had been quite a while since Caspian had last allowed himself to lose composure and actually cry, but he stopped in his tracks the second he found a secluded-looking corner in the hedge maze, dropping to his knees and looking up at the sky, letting out a soft, anguished moan before dissolving into tears. He slumped down, trying to disappear to somewhere deep within himself to get away from the pain. Caspian allowed himself to stay like that for only a few more minutes before forcing himself to get up and walk slowly back into the castle, looking as dignified as possible.

He hastily wiped his face with the back of his hand before anyone could see him and ask what had happened, then strode to his room and closed the door firmly, locking it from the inside. He threw himself onto the plush bed, cradling a pillow to his chest and thinking only of Peter's scent, the sensation of his skin underneath his fingertips…but then he remembered the way he'd snapped at Peter and felt even more miserable.

True, he _had_ initiated their little flirtation at dinner that fateful evening, but really, the rest of it was Peter's fault. He should've been more careful, more discrete, especially since he knew damn well that _both_ of their reputations were at stake. Sighing heavily, Peter's angry words echoing in his head, Caspian drifted off into a fitful sleep filled with abstract, senseless dreams that left him more exhausted upon waking than he had when he went to sleep.

Peter, on the other hand, wandered aimlessly through the gardens for what felt like hours. He couldn't help but feel hurt at Caspian's reaction; in retrospect, perhaps he should've been more cautious in initiating that morning's tryst, but he couldn't help himself.

He trudged into the castle, quickly finding Caspian's room and trying the doorknob. Locked…_Maybe he really is through with me…maybe I've seriously fucked up, _again. Peter curled up into a little ball on the floor outside the door, making no attempt to stop the tears from coursing down his face.

Caspian woke with a start sometime during the small hours of the morning, wondering if Peter had gotten back to his chamber safely. He hoped so; it hurt enough to know that he was the reason for Peter's suicide, but if something bad happened to him in his afterlife, Caspian didn't know what he would do. He unlocked the door and carefully opened it, stepping into the corridor after checking both directions to make sure no one happened upon him and asked questions he didn't feel like answering.

His foot collided with something soft, which let out a sleepy-sounding moan. Caspian gasped, kneeling and scooping Peter up, cradling the now only half-conscious boy in his arms.

"C-Caspian?" Peter stifled a yawn, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

"Peter…" Caspian felt like a melodramatic asshole for it, but he couldn't stop himself from crying a little again. "I had horrible thoughts, nightmares, things that made me worry about you terribly…you must forgive me. I will do whatever it takes to rectify the situation. Please forgive me…"

Peter wasn't quite sure how to respond. On one hand, he was quite glad that Caspian was, apparently, not pissed off at him anymore; however, his words had definitely stung Peter, rocked him to the core. It was almost as if he were being punished merely for loving someone…but his conscience got the better of him and he nodded, leaning up to place a chaste, sweet kiss on Caspian's lips. "S'alright…" He sat up a little, laughing softly. "Cas, you're squishing me."

"I am sorry." Caspian looked horrified, immediately loosening his grasp on Peter, who merely smiled up at him, as if telling him not to worry, that he was happy just to be with him and that all was well between them again.

Caspian reached behind him and gently closed the door, then leaned back against it before rearranging Peter into what he hoped was a less awkward position for Peter. "Are you quite comfortable, my King?"

Peter nodded sleepily but sat up, leaning into the door behind them as well and resting his head on Caspian's shoulder. The Telmarine breathed a soft sigh of relief, draping an arm across his lover's shoulders. The two sat there in the hall until sunrise, watching the beautiful colours wash in once more through the large windows. As he gazed at Peter's calm face, Caspian couldn't help but feel as if everything were going to be fine, no matter what the outcome of his upcoming announcement to the court—that he loved Peter as two people ought to love one another, and that he was going to stay and rule Narnia at Caspian's side.

**A/N: Fluffy. Fluffy, fluffy, fluffy. Methinks I actually NEED sleep; I'll probably post the last chapter or two tomorrow.**


	9. Chapter 9: Innocence

**Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife (9/10-ish) **

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Caspian x Peter

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them. Period.

**When writers die, they go to Hell and become editors.**

**When boys like Peter Pevensie die, they go to Narnia and get to do unspeakable things to a certain Telmarine.**

Caspian blinked drowsily, slowly rising to his feet, bringing Peter with him. He grimaced as his knees popped rather painfully; his back also felt as though someone had tried to drive a lance through his spine. Seeing that Peter had dozed off again, despite being on his feet, Caspian nudged him gently. "Peter…wake up."

"Nnn…Cas, why? 'M tired…" Peter slurred, swaying a bit.

"We must get ready for the…ceremony later on, amor, or I would let you sleep."

"Ceremony?" Peter seemed to wake up a bit at this.

"Yes…today is the day I plan to announce to the denizens of Narnia that you are here to stay…and that you will be ruling at my side for the rest of my reign." Caspian smiled warmly as he saw Peter blush, suddenly getting a mental image of what he must've looked like as a young child. _Child…_ Caspian shook his head, forcing the thoughts away. He took Peter's arm in his and led him to his chambers, remaining long enough to ensure that he didn't try to go back to sleep. When he was satisfied that Peter was, indeed, cleaning himself up and nothing else, Caspian returned to his own room to attend to his own appearance.

Later that afternoon, Peter stood rigidly at Caspian's side as he made his announcement to his people; surprisingly, there was very little in the way of negative reactions to his words. Relaxing a bit at the lack of animosity, Peter took Caspian's hand, lacing their fingers together, smiling shyly at the audience. However, the halcyon moment was disrupted when a short, squat, middle-aged woman stepped forward, stammering slightly.

"Beggin' your pardon, Majest…ies, but…what about an heir?"

A collective gasp (1) swept through the crowd, and Peter felt as if he were about to faint. He couldn't believe Caspian hadn't considered it or mentioned it to him before; true, the Telmarine had been, for the most part, untainted before Peter, but surely he couldn't be _that_ dense. Light eyes met dark as Peter's brows furrowed, concern evident on his face. Caspian's lips parted as if he were about to speak, but he closed them and blinked several times, turning back to the crowd.

"Yes, well…we have considered that matter carefully; obviously, there will need to be a surrogate. Whether it will be mine or King Peter's child has yet to be determined, but…"

A chorus of loud, shrill squeals swept through the crowd at the word "surrogate"; apparently, despite their rather obvious sexual preference, many young women still wanted to get into their pants. Caspian blushed faintly at the idea of being in bed with Peter and one of the many, many girls who were now advancing slowly upon them, trying to push through the crowd. To his shock, he didn't find the idea of lying with a woman completely repulsive.

Caspian forced his blush to fade, nodding and raising his hand to the audience in a benevolent yet dismissive gesture. Before anyone could corner the pair, he seized Peter's hand, which he had dropped in his surprise, and walked swiftly away before practically _bolting_ to his quarters.

Peter sank heavily onto the edge of the bed, head in his hands. "Caspian, what the fuck are we supposed to do? _I _don't like women, and _you_…" Seeing the darker boy's sheepish look, he flushed lightly in anger.

"Peter, you know that you are the one I love--" _Actually, _Peter thought,_ I didn't, seeing as we've never even _said_ it to one another, not once…_ "—And that I would never betray you. I would not even consider lying with someone else if it were not absolutely necessary. I have been wondering, my King, if you would consider…"

"Caspian, I am _not_ having a threesome with you and some bird." The bluntness of Peter's words brought a look of shock to Caspian's face, dark eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

"But then…I feel as though I would be going against your wishes, and…what is the word used in your time?"

"Cheating, Caspian, the word is cheating. You know what? You're right; this has to be done, and seeing as it has to be _your_ heir—this is, after all, _your_ domicile now—I think you ought to be the one to…do it. There is, however, one condition—_I_ get to choose the woman." Peter thought back to the first day he'd spent in the castle, how the chambermaid had been so flustered and anxious. Surely, she would have no aversion to sleeping with Caspian—if she'd found Peter good-looking, the chances that she'd find Caspian even more handsome, with his dark, more familiar looks, were reasonably good.

He smiled to himself, not without a touch of bitterness. "The chambermaid."

"I—the _what_?" Caspian's incredulous tone amused Peter in a twisted sort of way.

"You heard me. The chambermaid. The one who attended to me the first day I was here—she seemed to fancy me, and I'm sure she wouldn't mind going to bed with you. 'Sides, she wasn't horrible-looking or anything…your child would be good-looking and obviously Telmarine, in any case."

"Peter, I wanted the child to look like _you--_"

"Caspian, you know that's not possible; we're both males. I'm sure as hell not going to sleep with her, and it's _your_ duty, seeing as it's _your_ kingdom, after all…" Peter flapped a hand nonchalantly, as if to signal that the discussion was over.

Caspian swallowed hard. "All right…but only for you. And only this once." He cursed under his breath, appearing to be in a great deal of pain for a split second before coming to Peter and embracing him tightly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "When?"

"Well, now, ideally, if you've got the time."

Caspian let out a shaky breath. "But my only…experience…has been with you, and I was not the dominant one then…"

"So, let her do all the work. All you have to do is get it up, lay there, and send her on her way once it's all done."

Caspian blushed at Peter's blunt use of language but nodded solemnly, legs shaking slightly. "I'll send for her, then, shall I?"

"Perhaps you'd better…I'll be in my own quarters, come find me once you're finished, all right?"

Caspian nodded once more, sitting down on the bed and exhaling nervously. He reached up and pulled on the cord that would summon the chambermaid, then lay back on the bed to wait. Not even five minutes passed before the girl was rapping at the door and hastily entering, curtseying and gazing upon her King's handsome face with a slightly dreamy look in her eyes. "Yes, your Majesty…what do you require of me?"

"Close the door." Caspian's voice was rough and unexpectedly dark; he licked his lips, waiting for the girl to do as he'd asked, and then motioned for her to come closer. "What's your name, Miss?"

"Haidee, your Majesty." (2)

Caspian nodded, patting the bed next to him with a trembling hand. The girl looked at him inquisitively but did as he asked, perching on the edge of the bed next to him. Caspian shook his head, moving over and gently grasping her arm, urging her to get closer to him. Trying to keep his voice low and soothing, he took Haidee's hand and looked into her eyes, a rather serious expression on his face. "Haidee…you were at the ceremony earlier, were you not?" He knew she was, and continued on before she'd even finished nodding. "Then you know very well of the plight of King Peter and I…we are to produce an heir, although this is physically impossible. What I am requesting of you is that you be the surrogate." Haidee gasped.

"But sire, I'm just a servant! I thought surely you'd pick a high-born maiden…"

He sighed. "Just…Caspian, please. At least, just for right now. Do you consent?"

The girl nodded again, eyes large and frightened.

"I won't hurt you, Haidee. Truthfully, I've never done this with a woman before…is this your first time?"

"Y-yes…" Caspian leaned over and pressed his lips to hers firmly, closing his eyes and snaking a hand around to the back of her neck, waiting for her to respond. She did, moving soft lips against his, a slender, feminine hand weaving itself through his hair. Caspian continued to kiss her, keeping his eyes closed and pretending it was Peter doing all this instead. After a moment, he placed strong hands upon her narrow waist and rolling over so that she was straddling his hips. He could feel her small form trembling and felt horrible for taking advantage of her, but he had the feeling that she wanted this, and perhaps had for a long time.

He reached down with one hand and unfastened his pants, using the other to steady the girl on top of him. Discreetly, he began to stroke himself, trying to procure a suitable degree of hardness so as not to embarrass himself in front of the girl and drag this ordeal out any longer than was necessary. He gasped, eyes fluttering open momentarily as a cool, delicate hand gently pushed his away; he gazed up at Haidee from under long, dark lashes, and the girl smiled shyly back at him. Caspian bit his lip, shuddering lightly under her touch. The hand currently working at his now swiftly-growing erection was much softer and smoother than Peter's had been, and thus gave him a totally different sensation. When he decided that they were both ready, he pushed her hand away gently, motioning for her to take the next step.

She lifted her skirts, bunching them around her hips, then locked eyes boldly with Caspian as she began to lower herself onto him. He drew a deep, shuddering breath at the sudden warmth and tightness of the girl; he wondered briefly if Peter would feel this good as she paused, wincing slightly at the discomfort as she was stretched. Once he was fully sheathed in the girl's hot, wet body, she looked at him expectantly, eyes suddenly much older, and extended a hand. Understanding that she felt vulnerable and required at least some degree of intimacy, Caspian grasped her hand in his, lacing long, powerful fingers through her own small, fragile ones before closing his eyes once more, picturing Peter moving above him instead of the girl.

Haidee began to tentatively raise and lower herself, seeming rather unsure; after a few moments of this, Caspian gently released her hand and grasped her hips, guiding her. He opened his eyes for a second, just long enough to see her face glow with a strange, private sort of light as she gained confidence in herself, then closed them again.

It was all silent, save for a few delicate gasps coming from the girl every once in a while as her movements caused Caspian's length to hit a particularly sensitive spot. Meanwhile, the physical sensations, combined with Caspian's own private fantasies about Peter, seemed to intensify; the muscles of his lower abdomen tightened, as did those of his strong thighs, and he knew it wouldn't be much longer. Wanting her to get at least some pleasure out of it as well, he remembered some of the things he'd heard from the male servants as they discussed their own trysts. Reaching down, he worked his hand under the girl's skirts and pressed his thumb firmly against her clit, smiling to himself as he heard her moan for the first time, her high, sweet voice calling his name. The motions of her hips sped up as he felt her muscles clench tightly around him, then slow as she came down from her orgasm. Caspian couldn't help but whimper softly as the sensations in his lower body began to plateau and he released deep within Haidee's soft, waiting body.

When her breathing had calmed and Caspian had finished riding out the aftershocks, he lifted her gently off his body and motioned for her to lie down next to him. He leaned over and gave her a chaste kiss, touching her soft cheek as he whispered to her. "Thank you, milady. You may stay here and rest as long as you feel is necessary; I would stay with you, but there are other duties I must attend to at the moment. I hope that you can forgive me for this transgression, and that you enjoyed yourself…thank you." He watched her nod, looking up at him with a somewhat dazed expression. By the time he'd made himself decent once more and reached the door, she was already asleep. Looking back at her, a soft, lovely smile forming on his lips, he closed the door and walked to Peter's chambers.

He knocked once before entering, then leaned against the doorframe and looked at Peter with serious and somewhat saddened eyes. "It is done."

**A/N: I tried to handle this as delicately as possible; let me know if it worked well. I wanted it to be quite different than Caspian and Peter's experiences, obviously. More to come later (that's what she said.) **

**1 Ha. Ha, ha. I love collective gasping. ) FTW. Huzzah!**

**2 "Haidee" means "modesty," and was invented by Lord Byron for a character in "Don Juan." ****I personally hate it, as it sounds like "Hayley," but it's oddly fitting. **


	10. Chapter 10: Por el amargo y el dulce

Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife (10/

**Title: **Me and My Plus-One at the Afterlife (10/10)

**Pairing:** Peter x Caspian

**Rating:** R/NC-17 (Overall)

**A/N: **This is for everyone over at NarniaSlash…Dame loves you! –Blows kisses.- Thanks for all the support, guys, especially during this rather difficult time in my life.

**When writers die, they go to Hell and become editors.**

**When boys like Peter Pevensie die, they go to Narnia and get to do unspeakable things to a certain Telmarine.**

For the next nine months, Caspian was a wreck. At least twice a week, sometimes twice a _night_, Peter would wake to find him pacing about, muttering to himself under his breath. It was understandable, really; the pair had grown so used to one another that neither Caspian nor Peter were thrilled at the prospect of having to start all over if something should happen to their unborn heir. Although his pride kept him from admitting it, Peter found himself feeling rather jealous at the way he kept fawning over the former chambermaid, who had since been elevated to a more honourable position—certainly not a titled member of the court, but much improved from her previous standing. She was, after all, carrying the heir to the Telmarine throne.

The night of the new prince's birth had begun rather uneventfully; Peter and Caspian had taken a short stroll through the gardens, then retired to their quarters. They had only been asleep for a few hours when Haidee's agonized screams filled the castle, echoing loudly enough to reach the Kings' ears. Caspian was up in a flash, throwing on some clothes and dragging a very sleepy Peter (1) with him as he dashed to Haidee's room. They were promptly stopped at the door by a stern, matronly-looking woman.

"I'm sorry, Sire, but the girl is in great distress…and she's requested that only King Caspian be allowed in. Won't let anyone else; we're lucky she even let the doctor in."

Caspian nodded brusquely, but after seeing the crestfallen look on Peter's face, turned back to the woman and shook his head. "Tell her that, with all due respect, it's either both of us or none at all." She sighed, tapping her foot, before rushing back into the room. She returned a moment later; although Haidee's screams were steadily escalating in volume as she threw what appeared to be a labour-induced temper tantrum, the older woman motioned for both of them to enter.

Caspian stepped gingerly into the dimly lit room and over to the side of the bed; the wailing girl immediately calmed upon seeing him, reaching for his hand, which he readily extended. Peter, meanwhile, sat rigidly in a chair near the door, feeling somewhat left out. He mentally scolded himself; it was, after all, Caspian and Haidee's child, not his. For a first child, the labour seemed to be rather short; Caspian stayed by the bed, smoothing back the young girl's hair and whispering words of encouragement to her. When it was all over and she fell back against the pillows, looking frighteningly pale, Peter watched as a tiny, squalling infant was lifted up and gently cleaned before being swaddled and placed on its mother's chest.

At last, Caspian broke away from the group of people around the large bed and walked over to Peter, taking him gently by the hand. "Come and see your son, my King…" He planted a delicate kiss on his lips before leading him to the bed. Peter glanced down at the baby, every bit as dark and delicately structured as his parents, and felt something inside him shift. He looked nervously at Caspian, and the warm, benevolent smile that spread across his face, illuminating his features as he gazed at the child, was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

Haidee glanced up at the two men standing above her and smiled weakly in return, stroking the infant's glossy, dark hair as it began to feed. Her eyes closed slowly, and while the graceful smile faded, it did not disappear completely from her lips. The midwife touched Peter's arm, and they both jumped at the intrusion.

"She's lost a lot of blood, Sire…we're doing everything we can, but…"

Peter turned his gaze back to Caspian, whose smile slowly fell as he noticed Haidee's grip slacken, face draining of colour. Her chest hitched with one last laboured breath, and then she stilled. He slid his arm around the dark haired man's waist, drawing him close as he shuddered, fighting back tears. Caspian looked first at Peter, dark eyes moist with emotion, then bent down and placed a gentle kiss on the girl's forehead. "Thank you, milady…" His jaw clenched slightly as he watched the infant pull away, realising that its mother had passed. Peter felt his heart breaking as he watched Caspian lift the child, seeming rather uneasy and fearful of dropping the baby; when he turned, Peter noticed the tears coursing down over his fine cheekbones, curving around his jaw. He made no attempt to wipe them away, and Peter made no attempt to comfort him, knowing that, at this point, it was best to let him grieve.

"What are you going to name her, Majesties?" The midwife's voice had softened as she looked upon the new family, wringing her hands in front of her.

Caspian's voice was soft, cracking slightly as he answered. "Rilian…I think she would have liked that." He glanced at Peter as if asking for consent; he nodded. (2) The pair let their eyes rest on the now-deceased woman, who looked as if she were merely sleeping, for one long moment before turning away; it was not their place to gawk at the body. They realised the sacrifice she'd made for them, and would honour it; that was enough.

The Telmarine turned his attention to the midwife, holding the baby awkwardly in his arms. "H-how do we look?"

She chuckled, and Caspian seemed to relax as she adjusted the baby with strong, gentle hands. "Like scared new parents. Ye'll do fine."

In the scant, clandestine light of the chamber, a solemn air seemed to overtake those present. Peter leaned down and kissed the baby's plump and tender cheeks before embracing Caspian. The older of the two sighed, leaning into his lover's warm body as they watched the stars slowly begin to fade into the soft light of early dawn.

"**The dream is ended: this is the morning." **

**-Aslan, from **_**The Last Battle**_

**A/N: **

**1** That didn't sound right…

**2** Here is where I land the final death blow in bastardizing the canon; Rilian _was_ the name of Caspian's child, though Ramandu's daughter has basically been vaporized (to quote _1984_).


End file.
